


Ashes, Ashes, Dust to Dust

by sleepov3r



Category: Infinity Train (Cartoon)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Post-Canon, dealing with grief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 08:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30019032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepov3r/pseuds/sleepov3r
Summary: Grace holds a funeral for Simon.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	Ashes, Ashes, Dust to Dust

**Author's Note:**

> Written after rewatching Book Three, wanted to get my headcanons for Grace written out before Book Four comes out. Rated T mostly for discussion of grief, toxic relationships, and some strong language. Title is from the song "Curses" by The Crane Wives.

The mall car had never looked so empty. In the past month, Grace had successfully disbanded the Apex and helped each and every former member find their own path. Some kids had even gotten their doors already, a sight that still unsettled Grace every time she saw it. The glowing green lines forming out of nothing, leading to a world she wasn’t yet ready to face again, but she put on a smile for each kid who eagerly jumped back through to their family. 

The other Apex kids had banded together in teams of three or four and wandered off to make their own amends with the train. Sometimes some of them return to the mall car once in a while, maybe to ask Grace for help, but usually just to see a familiar face. Grace always sent them off again with a smile and a wave, then waited as they closed the doors and the size of the car engulfed her once again.

On her own, Grace had had plenty of time to sort through the mess she’d made. She started on the bottom floor, setting the food court tables upright, scrubbing the graffiti off of the walls, picking up and dusting off the mannequins. Working her way up the escalator, she set free every undamaged denizen she and Simon had captured and did her best to repair the others.

The work was tedious, but it felt good, and it gave Grace plenty of time to think. Some days she thought of her parents, wondered if they missed her, or if they had stopped looking for her years ago. Other days she thought of Hazel, scripting in her head the different ways she would apologize if she ever saw the little girl again. Leaving her with Amelia, whose people skills weren’t any better than Grace’s, made her nervous, but at least she was with someone competent, who could look after her without making her feel lesser.

The worst days were when Grace thought about Simon. Setting foot in Simon’s room was the hardest part. During the first few days of her isolation she could barely touch anything in there. Eventually she worked up the courage to gather all his former belongings and pack them in a bag, but even now she kept it under her own bed, unable to look at it for too long.

Eventually, the mall car looked presentable again, and almost unrecognizable as the previous den of the Apex. Leaning over the rail, Grace surveyed her work and allowed herself to feel a bit of pride. Her number whirred in agreement, and she glanced down to see that the digits had retreated down her arm, and now only her palm remained lit.

“Huh, not done yet?” Grace murmured to herself. Though she wasn’t particularly eager to return home, she was sure that disbanding the Apex and fixing all the damage she’d done, both physical and emotional, would be enough to earn her ticket out. There must be something left. A memory surfaced of sitting in a tree, listening to Hazel sing as she clung to an iridescent rock, the only remains of Tuba. With a sinking feeling, Grace knew what she had to do. With Simon’s bag slung over her shoulder, Grace inhaled deeply and exited the mall car for what she hoped would be the last time.

After pushing through a couple cars, Grace came across a lush forest bathed in evening colors. It wasn’t anything special as far as the cars went, but it brought her a sense of calm she hadn’t felt all day. It would have to suffice. Grace wandered until she found a clearing, knelt, and set the bag beside her. Inside sat a couple of Simon’s miniatures, the draft of his book, and a small jar holding what Grace had managed to salvage from his ashes. Her hand hovered above the jar, shaking, before Grace opted for the book instead.

Clutching the book to her chest, Grace grappled with herself, trying to find the right way to start. “Simon, I… oh, God, I…”

“Perhaps I can help, kitten.”

Grace looked up to see The Cat--Samantha--come striding out of the woods, white fur turned gold in the setting sun.

“You,” Grace breathed.

Samantha nodded. “It’s difficult to hold a funeral with only one attendant.”

Grace hesitated. Simon would certainly disapprove of Samantha’s presence, and the feline hadn’t made any effort to prove herself trustworthy since that night in the cabin car, but she had a point. Grace couldn’t stand being by herself right now.

“Okay.” Grace patted the spot on the ground beside her, and Samantha trotted over. Grace looked from the cat to the book in her hands, exhaled, and started again.

“Hey there, Simon. Been a while. If I’m doing this right, and I hope I am, I’m gonna be leaving the train soon. As much as I would have liked to take you with me, I can’t. I’m going home. I’m going to start over, be a better person to everyone I left behind.”

“And you made your choice,” Grace added, her voice rising, “You could have changed. You had it in you, I know you did. But you chose wrong, and I won’t blame myself any longer for not being able to save you.”

Samantha nudged Grace’s hand. Grace heard the sound of her number ticking down again, but she didn’t want to stop just yet.

“Still, I am sorry. I should have been more honest with you. I should have trusted you. But I wasn’t ready to let anyone in back then. I was just as much of a scared, fucked-up kid as you were, me in my kneepads and you in your socks and sandals,” Grace chuckled, “Maybe it was always destined to turn out like this. You and me, together… it was never going to end well. Guess I’ll never know.”

Grace sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Samantha watched patiently as Grace collected herself, set the book on the ground, and reached again for the jar. Her face stared back at her in the glass, older and more worn, but just as scared and alone as that little girl that had boarded the train years ago.

“Samantha, I’m scared,” Grace admitted through a sob, “What’s waiting for me outside the train?”

“I can’t tell you that, kitten,” Samantha said, “But I know you’re capable and resilient. You’ll make it through.”

“Thank you,” Grace said, as her number continued to whir. A bright green 7 flashed at her through her tears.

“I believe you have just one task left, now,” Samantha prodded gently, “I’ll help get you started.” She put her front paws to the dirt and began to dig.

“You think he’d want to be buried here, on the train, of all places?” Grace asked.

“With us two doing the job? Hard to say,” Samantha said without looking up from her task, “But look at it this way: at one time, we both loved him, and he loved us. And by leaving him here, you can finally move on, kitten. It’s what you deserve.” Samantha sat back and looked to Grace expectantly

With now-steadied hands, Grace laid the bag in the hole first, then the jar, and tucked the book and the miniatures in around it. Together, Grace and Samantha scooped the dirt back on top and patted the hole flat.

A final whirring noise sounded as Grace’s number hit zero, and before her a glowing green line materialized out of nowhere, forming the shape of a doorway Grace had seen far too many times.

“Thank you, Samantha.” Grace gave the cat a tiny embrace, which Samantha quietly endured. Then she stood, brushed herself off, and blew the remaining air out her cheeks.

“Good luck, Grace.” Samantha nodded curtly before leaping away into the trees. Grace watched her go, then turned to face her future.


End file.
